Making Christmas Warm
by frozenmango
Summary: In which Asuka finds herself celebrating Christmas and her birthday for the first time in a long while with a certain someone.


**AN: Merry Christmas! And hbd to Asuka as well! she's beaut and she deserves, that's what i believe - that's why I wrote this. I actually wrote this a month in advance because I was looking forward to it too much (ik im lame ok no need to point it out), so therefore some details won't be with canon since I didn't watch the Asuka arc then. Sorry 'bout that.**

 **Plus Haruka needs more love too - she works so hard and no one notices her. :c**

 **But I still hope you enjoy this, whomever you are.**

 **Ciao. c:**

* * *

Asuka was never fond of Christmas.

There was always something…fake about the entire affair. The plastered smiles, the artificial greetings, the hopeless wishing, the bitter cold, the superficial gifts—all of it, fake. She had once heard the girls in her class say that the holidays were the best time of the year. Asuka scoffed at the thought. After all, what's the point of receiving a gift that no one truly meant? Nothing, obviously.

But here she was, participating in something that she looked down upon, standing on the outskirts of a circle of babbling students, some of them wearing santa hats, holding a cup of hot chocolate. Asuka would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy one bit of it.

The terrible paradox of a human being was far too complex for Asuka's liking—she found herself contradicting her own beliefs so often that she wasn't sure on what to believe anymore.

Tentatively, Asuka took a sip at her drink and grimaced at the sweet flavor. One thing she was absolutely sure of, however, was her hatred of cocoa. She preferred the bitterness of coffee. An alumni once said, "You're young, but you got the mind of a middle-aged woman."

The thought made Asuka chuckle to herself.

"You're doing that weird thing again."

Asuka turned to her left and saw the president of Kitauji band club herself, Haruka Ogasawara. She looked fairly normal, for the most part: although lacking the neck strap for her saxophone, she wore Kitauji's winter uniform. That was until Asuka looked up at her head and saw a santa hat sitting crookedly on top of the girl's pigtails.

Asuka stifled her laugh, making it sound like a snort; seeing the oh-so mature and collected president wearing such a childish thing was _hilarious._

"I can't believe you're wearing _that,"_ Asuka said as she fought through her laughter. Haruka's cheeks turned into the darkest shade of burgundy that was humanly possible.

"At least _I'm_ getting into the spirit!" Haruka exclaimed, crossing her arms across her chest with a huffy expression.

Asuka laughed again, shaking her head. "Of course, of course. Whatever you say, Mrs. Claus."

" _Anyways,"_ Haruka began with an edge as she stood beside Asuka, "what were you laughing at earlier?"

"You."

" _Before_ me."

"Oh, you know, the usual."

"And the usual is…?"

"Everything," Asuka replied ambiguously, wiggling her eyebrows as she took another sip of the horrid hot chocolate.

"Is everything also the reason why you're drinking hot chocolate?"

Asuka raised an eyebrow; she was too busy forcing her drink down her throat to reply properly.

"Asuka, I _know_ you hate hot chocolate."

Asuka sighed loudly and shook her head, flicking a strand of her hair over her shoulder with too much bravado. "Ah, it seems like the great Asuka-sama's secret has been found out! Oh, whatever shall I do?"

Haruka rolled her eyes and smiled softly before leaning to rest her head on top of Asuka's shoulder. Asuka stiffened despite herself, her grip on her styrofoam cup tensing as Haruka's scent crept into her nose.

Pine and coffee, Asuka noticed as she quietly took a deep breath. Haruka smelled of pine and coffee. An odd mix, no doubt, but it was one that comforted Asuka more than it should have.

But then again, Asuka always found herself enjoying Haruka's company more than she should have.

She didn't know how, nor did she know why, but somewhere along the line she suddenly became more aware of Haruka. It was a strange feeling at first, one that prodded and poked at her during their second year, but once their third year came around, Asuka could feel that feeling grow incessantly stronger. It grew and it grew and eventually it culminated into a thorny blossom that kept prickling at her heart whenever she stole a mere glance in Haruka's direction. Asuka struggled to find the name of the flower she now harbored for quite a while. The day she found her answer was akin to seeing the sun after a long week of storms: relief, warmth, and the small fear of how long it would last before it went away.

The flower's name was Love—or rather, that's the name Asuka would have gone with had she been a sickening romantic-sap of a girl in the first place. She decided to go with a humbler name to call her flower: Admiration.

And who could blame her? Who _wouldn't_ admire Haruka, after all she had done for the band, _especially_ after the whole schism with the second-years? Even through times of hardship, Haruka managed to keep the band in her hold albeit loosely, but together nonetheless. Had she been president, Asuka knew she would have done something completely different—to Hell with them, she would have said, it's better to get rid of the problem than to keep it and allow it to fester.

But Haruka was…different. She put up an honest fight and tried her best to win despite knowing the outcome of the battle long before it happened. Had it been any other girl, Asuka was sure she would have scoffed and tell them to—in the nicest way possible, of course—suck it up. In life, things happen. The second-year incident was just one of many. But despite knowing that, Haruka still fought and fought and fought, even when her own blows were hurting herself.

Haruka had a foolish and naive determination that Asuka couldn't help but envy, couldn't help but admire.

It was one of the reasons why she denied the presidency of the Band Club in the first place, despite the many recommendations, one of them being from Haruka herself. But time and time again, Asuka rejected the position, because she lacked something that Haruka had in abundance.

Heart.

"—ka. —uka. Asuka!"

Asuka blinked. Haruka stood in front of her wearing a worried expression, arms crossed. When did she move? The thought made Asuka frown as her shoulder suddenly felt abnormally cold in the heated room.

"Are you okay?" Haruka asked, tilting her head to the side. The tail of her hat moved as well, and the sight gave Asuka enough energy to wear her trademark grin once again.

"Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because I've been practically yelling your name for a while now."

Asuka's lips curled into a cat-like smile. "Well, it's certainly not the first time."

Haruka's face turned a dark burgundy as she slowly understood the joke "W-why you…!" She swatted Asuka's arm.

Asuka's laughter spilled from her lips as she weakly defended herself against Haruka's light-hearted hits. In the back of her mind, she could feel the flower prickling her heart with its thorns again. _"Okay, mercy!"_ She exclaimed in English. After enduring several more hits, Asuka caught Haruka's wrist before she could land another blow. "We should exchange gifts soon," she pointed out, reverting back to her responsible vice-president role.

Realization dawned over Haruka. "Ah, you're right!" She slipped her hand away from Asuka's grip before tumturning around, cupping her hands over her mouth.

Asuka could feel the ghost of Haruka's warmth holding the palm of her hand.

"Everyone! We will be exchanging gifts soon!" Haruka announced. The students stopped their activities, answering in a drawn-out "Yeeeeees" before shuffling off in a clamor to grab their wrapped gifts.

"Wrapped, superficial gifts," Asuka absently mumbled.

"What did you say?"

Asuka blinked and saw Haruka looking over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. Asuka quickly adopted a smile and waved dismissively.

"Oh, nothing!" She sang, downing the rest of her wretched, now-cold chocolate before tossing the empty cup into the waste bin. She turned to Haruka, her trained smile growing larger. "Let's get this over with, hm?"

Haruka replied with a faint nod and the cutest smile.

The gift exchange went rather smoothly, much to Asuka's slight surprise. She watched with amusement as Hazuki shuffled her way over to Shuuichi, clumsily presenting her gift to him in a shaky voice. It was a scarf, apparently hand-knitted according to not-so-quiet Midori not-so-quietly whispering to Kumiko. Speaking of Midori, she had drawn out Reina's name for the exchange and gave her a strange looking figurine, calling it Trumpet-kun. Reina accepted it with a small smile and a nod before heading off to give her gift to Kaori, which, not surprisingly, was a booklet containing advanced trumpet techniques. Kaori thanked Reina politely before walking in Asuka's direction, giving her a mug decorated with cartoon instruments. Asuka felt herself smile and thanked Kaori—even though she wasn't fond of Christmas, Asuka had to admit there were little things that she enjoyed.

 _Although, Kaori should_ really _give me something else aside from cups and mugs,_ Asuka mused.

"I can't believe Kaori-senpai didn't get _me!_ " Asuka heard Yuuko grumble as she begrudgingly gave her gift to Natsuki. It was a small snowglobe with a figurine so tiny that Asuka couldn't make out what it was.

"Oh, shut up," Natsuki said as she set her gift aside to present hers to Yuuko.

Yuuko gave a haughty huff as she ripped open the wrapping. "Don't tell me to—ah!" Her eyes glimmered as a brand-new ribbon sat in her hands, this one a faint pink in color.

"It's okay, no need to thank me," Natsuki said with a smug smirk. "I _know_ it's amazing."

Asuka huffed out a breath of amusement before making her way across the crowded classroom to meet Kumiko.

"Oumae-chan!" She sang, passing by Nozomi and Mizore exchanging gifts with one another, small smiles on their faces. "I have your gift!"

Kumiko turned around. "Ah, Asuka-senpai. You drew my name?"

"Indeed! You have been blessed to be given a gift by the great Asuka-sama!"

"It sounds more like a curse rather than a blessing…."

Asuka gave an exaggerated gasp, placing her hand over her heart as she dramatically doubled over. " _You are hurting me!"_ She cried out in English.

"Just get it over with, please."

Asuka laughed, dropping the act. "Yes, yes, of course. Here," she said, holding out an oblong shape wrapped in colorful wrapping paper.

Kumiko warily took it. "What is it?" She asked, slowly peeling off the paper.

"Unwrap it faster and you'll see!"

And Kumiko did, stopping halfway as she dumbly staring at her gift.

"You…gave me an avocado."

"Indeed!"

"…Thanks?"

Asuka laughed and gathered Kumiko in her arms, pulling her into a tight hug; Kumiko replied with a small "Guh!"

Asuka gave a chuckle at Kumiko's reaction. It was when she stopped for a breath did Asuka notice Kumiko smelled like freshly dried laundry. "Of course, that's not your _real_ present," Asuka said. "That's in my euph case. I'll go grab it right away, so don't—move—an—inch, okay?"

A crooked smile crawled onto Kumiko's face. "O-okay."

After parting with a salute and a grin, Asuka exited the band room like a toy soldier, pumping her arms and lifting her knees as high as high as she could. Once she slid the door behind her, however, her tacked on smile fell to the floor and she sighed out of her nose. She gave an aloof glance at the mug in her hand.

She wondered if this was just another wrapped, superficial gift.

With another sigh, Asuka shook her head and shuffled off to the instrument room, the bright lights of the hallways guiding her. She reached for the lightswitch and the lights flickered on, filling the room with a dismal, orange light. She made her way to her euph case, making sure to step over Goto's tuba case, and crouched down. She set down her mug before opening her case. Her silver euph gleamed brightly in the dull lighting. The sight made her smile.

Seeing her instrument never failed to comfort her.

She gave the euphonium a fond pat before reaching inside to find Kumiko's real gift, the newest album of a well-known orchestra Kumiko was fond of. Before Asuka could, however, something fluttered to the floor from inside her case.

A birthday card.

Asuka blinked—the last time she remember getting one was from her father. God only knows how long ago that was.

Suddenly, she noticed the telltale scent of pine and coffee in the room. A small smile tugged on her lips as Asuka turned to the doorway.

The sight of Haruka standing there holding a paper plate of tiramisu was enough for the flower to scratch at Asuka's chest again.

"Was this from you?" Asuka asked as she picked up the card from the floor.

"Guilty," Haruka admitted, filling the room with her quiet footsteps as she made her way to Asuka.

"I didn't know you knew my birthday," Asuka said with a chuckle. "How'd you find out?"

"I have my ways."

"Oh? It seems I have a stalker."

"Okay, not _those_ ways."

Asuka laughed and stood up. "I don't know, I'm a rather secretive person; I wouldn't let that kind of information be known—" Her words died in her throat as she saw the singular candle embedded in the tiramisu.

Asuka was suddenly hit with the fact that this was the first time in a long while she was actually celebrating her birthday with someone.

"I would light the candle, but I didn't bring any matches with me. Plus it's kind of a safety hazard for our—are you okay?" Haruka came closer, inspecting Asuka with a worried expression.

"A-ah," Asuka forced out a shaky laugh, "it's nothing. I don't want to worry you." She put on her smile again, but this one was weak and trembled. She admonished herself for letting her mask slip.

"Are you sure…?"

Asuka felt her chest hurt when she heard Haruka's tone. Her smile went away with the cold breeze outside. She knew that there was no use pretending in front of Haruka anymore.

"This…is the first time you celebrated your birthday in a while, isn't it?" Haruka asked, edging a little closer.

Asuka felt the corner of her quirk up. "I can't pass anything by you, can I, Ms. President?"

Haruka chuckled. "After knowing you for a couple of years, I learned to read the signs."

"Oh? Such as?"

"Your eyes," Haruka said far too quietly, "they lose their shine when you're bothered about something."

Now Asuka was intrigued. "A shine? Like the ones that those anime characters with glasses have?"

Haruka gave a louder laugh. "No, no, not like that. It's like—mm, it's like," she tilted her head to side as if she wanted to get a better look at her, "it's kind of this…natural glow that lives in your eyes. Kind of like the glare on a brass instrument except, you know, in your eyes."

"That was the clumsiest explanation I've ever heard," Asuka said with a chortle.

Haruka puffed out her reddening cheeks. "At least I _tried."_

"Oh, you most certainly did," Asuka said, looking down at the tiramisu with a fond smile. "You most certainly did…."

"… When was the last time you did something like this?"

The question was out of the blue, like a sudden punch in the face. It took several blinks from Asuka in order for her to understand Haruka's question. She looked up at the other girl, her eyes peeking over the top rim of her red glasses.

"Did something like what? The birthday thing?"

"Well," Haruka shifted her weight from foot to foot before settling down, "that and the Christmas thing."

Asuka felt her lips quirk up again. "So you _did_ hear me earlier."

That sheepish smile crawled onto Haruka's face. "Guilty."

"Why do you want to know?" Asuka asked, her expression suddenly turning to stone. She leaned against the instrument shelf, never removing her steady gaze from Haruka's.

Haruka's gaze never faltered either. "Because I care."

Had this been any other girl, Asuka would have scoffed. She heard so many other people parrot those words to one another so many times, it meant less than dust to her. Time and time again, she heard those words wrapped in faux-compassion, drenched in nothing but artificial sweetness.

Nothing but wrapped, superficial gifts.

But this wasn't any girl. This was _Haruka,_ the girl Asuka so very much admired because of her unyielding heart. And those words, those _godforsaken words_ —they held something that Asuka thought she would never hear again.

Haruka _cared._ She actually and legitimately _cared_ for Asuka. While yes, the others in band cared for Asuka as well, she knew that there was an underlying meaning to their worries. They were worried that they wouldn't have their best euphonium carry them to Nationals, to victory. They were worried that their strongest pillar of support would give way underneath them and they would all come crumbling down like sand. And as much as she loved Kumiko, Asuka knew that there had to be something more. There always was.

But Haruka wasn't like the rest of them. Asuka didn't know how she could be so sure of it—perhaps it was because it was Haruka, and Haruka _alone,_ that was standing in front of her with a slice of decadent tiramisu—but she could tell that Haruka was different. Yes, Haruka wasn't the best player. Yes, Haruka wasn't extravagant. Yes, Haruka was plain. But, by _God,_ does she try.

And because she tried, Asuka was amazed on how someone so plain, so _simple,_ could be so _goddamn beautiful._

Maybe it was that realization that made her fess up.

"The last time I celebrated my birthday properly," Asuka began, "was when my father was still around. A lot of kids think it's all fun and games when your birthday is on a holiday because you get twice the presents. But really, it's nothing like that. People forget. Often." She chuckled. "But there was one person that never failed to forget."

"Your dad," Haruka muttered.

Asuka nodded, her eyes trailing off to stare at the tiramisu. "He went away when I was young, but he never failed to remember. He gave me my first euphonium, and one time he actually sent tiramisu to the house once." Asuka laughed, remembering the childish joy that exploded in her chest when she saw the postman holding that beautiful cake in his hands. "In the midst of all the chaos that are the holidays," she added quietly, "my father was the quiet solace I sought.

"Mother, on the other hand, was a little different. I'm sure she didn't mean to forget—she's a busy woman. Even back then, she was swimming up to her neck in paperwork. She would always give me something, though. A scarf, a shirt, a book. The practical, useful things, according to her. None of that 'garbage,' you know? But even as a kid, I could feel something was…missing. I'm sure she meant well, I really do,"—Asuka tried to ignore the bitter taste building up in her mouth as she forced the words out—"but it didn't feel…genuine. It felt she as if she was giving me those things because she felt _obligated_ to do so. Because, in the end, no matter how much goodwill she intended those gifts to have, they were only—"

"Wrapped, superficial gifts?" Haruka finished. Asuka didn't need to look up to see the small smile tugging on Haruka's lips; she heard it in her voice.

And hearing it made her smile as well.

"Exactly," she said, finally looking up at Haruka.

"So…did the whole gift exchange thing put you off?" Haruka asked.

"Mm, not necessarily. I mean, it's not like I _hate_ it or anything—I just _prefer_ not to do it."

"Is that why you gave Oumae-san an avocado?"

Asuka laughed. "You saw that?"

" _Everyone_ did, Asuka."

"Looks I need to Obliviate all of them, don't I?"

"I don't speak witchcraft."

Asuka's chuckled as her response.

And then a silence floated on top of them, dangling over their heads like mistletoe.

Haruka was the one who blew it off.

"Was it wrong of me to do this, then?" Her voice was unsure, scared even, as she looked down at the dessert she held in her hands. Asuka could feel thorns pricking at her heart again. God, she _hated_ hearing that tone in Haruka's voice—it hurt to hear.

"What, the tiramisu? Of course not," Asuka chuckled, "I love tiramisu."

Although Asuka's quip didn't fail to coax a smile out of Haruka, her eyes were still downcast. "But I mean, I don't want you to think I did this out of pity, you know? Like this is some kind of—"

"Wrapped, superficial gift?"

Haruka finally looked up, directing her small smile in Asuka's direction. "…Yeah."

It was Asuka's turn to smile. "I can assure you I don't think of it like that."

"Why's that?"

Asuka didn't know what came over her. Perhaps it was a ghost temporarily possessed her, but Asuka reached over and cupped Haruka's warm cheek. "Because you care," she answered very, very quietly.

What happened after that was a complete blur: Asuka reached out for Haruka's face, the tiramisu was haphazardly placed atop Goto's case, and Asuka was _kissing Haruka._ She was kissing Haruka, kissing those _soft_ lips, those lips that uttered words Asuka never knew that she wanted to hear. She was kissing Haruka, beautiful, _beautiful_ Haruka, a girl that had enough heart to make up for all those heartless bastards in the world. She was kissing Haruka, the girl she admired so much.

No, Asuka decided as she pulled Haruka closer to her to deepen the kiss, she didn't admire Haruka.

She _loved_ her.

Asuka loved Haruka, it was plain and simple.

That truth made the tiniest of tears slip from her eye as Love—formerly called Admiration—prickled her heart once again.

Then, the kiss ended as suddenly as it began. They both pulled back mutually, staring at one another with hooded eyes. Their shared breath buffeted their lips, and Asuka caught a whiff of hot chocolate mingling in the smell of pine and coffee.

For once, Asuka found herself actually enjoying the scent of hot chocolate.

"Sorry," Haruka mumbled. But despite her unexpected apology, she didn't move farther; in fact, she moved _closer,_ close enough so that their noses barely grazed.

"For what?" Asuka asked with a breath of amusement. "That kiss was the best gift I got for _both_ Christmas and my birthday."

Haruka chuckled. "The tiramisu wasn't good enough? Thought you loved it."

"Well," a crooked smile tugged on Asuka's lips, "I think I love you more than tiramisu."

"Cheesy," Haruka breathed out before closing the distance between them once again.

And Asuka allowed herself to indulge in the very real, very genuine gift of Love, which smelled like pine and coffee, with the slightest trace of hot chocolate.


End file.
